Band Back
by TheBooksofEli
Summary: Mordecai and Rigby have rekindled the glory of their Mordecai and the Rigbys days once more. Will they manage to bring the band back, or will one gig change everything?
1. Chapter 1 - Once A Band, Always A Band

**Chapter 1 - Once A Band, Always A Band**

6 MONTHS AFTER PRESENT DAY: 8:24 PM, ANUAL OPEN MIC NIGHT - COFFEE SHOP

* * *

Mordecai opened the door backstage. In the room, the lights above the mirror flickered, kissed and marked in lipstick with a promiscuous message:

"CALL ME, RIGBY

818-346-0432

YOURS TRULY,

ALEXIA"

A familiar groan came from the end of the room. Rigby was seated in a velvet red chair with his blind shades on, fogging from the secondhand smoke of his psychedelic.

"There you are. We're on in 5. Is that what I think it is?"

Rigby could barely reply. "Yeah, it's great. Hey, could ya stop movin' for a sec?"

"Dude, I'm not even moving. I'm standing right in front of you. Pass that crap." Mordecai took the psychedelic LSD out of Rigby's unrelenting hand, took in into his ever-yearning system, and found colors splotched all over the room.

"It's like a rainbow," Mordecai said, clearly delusional. "Even when I close my eyes."

"It's beautiful, is'nit? But you know what else is beautiful? You, man. You're my-" Rigby held back a surge of vomit and continued, "-best frien'."

"Woah, did you mix, bro?" Mordecai laughed absurdly. "That's brave, man," followed by a long, unhealthy cough. "You're the best, uh, friend, I've ever-" Mordecai hiccuped, "-met."

"E'rything's so...move-y. I, uh — how long did 'u say?"

Mordecai looked at his watch, 6 minutes passed and the were late for the show. There was a knock on the door.

"Hello? Guys, let's go, you're on!" said their manager.

**"We'll screw around later! Ditch the dope and clean up, we're wanted onstage now!"**

"Gimme a minut', I need'a piss!"

"Well, I'm leaving. Join me when you're not feeling like being a pussy."

* * *

1 YEAR AGO, 1:32 PM, THE PARK

* * *

"Look, we've become rich and famous because of lip synching, don't you want to be apart of that?"

"NO, THAT'S LAME! YOU MAY BE ME, BUT THAT'S NOT THE ME I WANT TO BE."

"ME NEITHER."

"MORDECAI AND THE RIGBYS IS OVER!" The shirts came off, and their Future selves simultaneously started to fade away.

"WOAH WOAH!" They both said at once.

"Ok, dude. Think about what you're doing!"

"Yeah, stop man!"

"If you break up the band, what are we gonna do in the future?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." At last, they tore their shirts in half, raising the fragments high into the air. The last word their futures managed to say screamed eerily in their ears.

_"NO!" _The gust of wind and light destroyed them, once and for all, continuing like a strong breeze over the audience. At the moment, the crowd war at a loss for words, then Benson's applause filled the empty room, followed by concourses upon concourses of cheers and claps surrounded Mordecai and Rigby upstage. Rigby beamed at the crowd and spoke back to an equally awestruck Mordecai.

"I don't know why you thought this open mic night would be embarrassing. This is awesome!" Then preceded downstage for their moment of fame anxiously awaiting.


	2. Chapter 2 - Crunch Time

**Chapter 2 - ****Crunch Time**

PRESENT DAY, 8:02 AM

* * *

It was Saturday at the park. Downstairs, the last clean spoon was won over by Rigby.

"Like everyday, Rigby, it's clockwork. Breakfast at 8, work till 5, lunch, then you're left to your own devices at 8 - workday over."

Rigby sifted through the bran in his cereal. "See, half of what you said doesn't even apply to me. You're gonna have to speak my language more often instead of speaking _Boring."_

"Fine. I guess I didn't start your morning off as entertaining as usual," said Mordecai sarcastically.

"That's right. Now if you want to make it up to me, you'll come with me to the midnight premiere of _The Winter Soldier_ with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind that actually, I've only heard good things about it."

"Then it's settled."

"No, wait, I forgot. I'm teaching CJ how to play the guitar today."

"Oh. I bet I could teacher her a lesson or two. Ya know what I'm say-in'?"

"NO. BUT I WOUKD GET THAT HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER."

"Chill out! I was talking about how to play the harmonica like Bobbie Dylan, geez!"

Benson turned the corner and knocked on the wall. "You two better finish fast. We're about to spilt up the tasks and I want you and everyone else there. Got it?"

"Alright, we'll be there. Just give us a few minutes."

"Ok, just finish fast." Benson passed the hall and went out the door and closed the door with unprecedented ease (as opposed to impatient hassle).

"Wow. He's never this calm."

"Wonder what he's on today," said Rigby, but afterwards got slapped on the back of the head.

"Cut it out, Rigby, it's probably a raise. Don't blow this for us."

Rigby got out of chair and walked to the door. "What? He couldn't have heard that. Plus Benson's never said the word raise since our first week on the job."

* * *

Moments later, Benson was pleased to announce:

"Everyone listen up. We're going to be visited by professionals later today — we don't know what they specialize in but we know they know how to enhance other people's futures; and, if we can impress them, they'll consider promoting only a few of us to something different — maybe even our own dream jobs. But this doesn't necessarily mean you'll lose your job here, you'll just make more money."

"But, Benson, we already like it here!" flattered Muscle Man.

"But we've all had dreams, right?"

"Some more wet than others," Rigby whispered to Mordecai.

"Aw, sick!"

Benson looked up at the both of them at the top of the stairs. "Rigby, you seem eager to speak. Tell us your dream."

"Well, there was this one lady, and she-"

Mordecai slugged Rigby in the arm before he could finish. "He meant something you've always wanted to do, wise one."

"Oh, well, I've always wanted to grow my hair out like Duff McKagan and play live."

Mordecai look ed back at Benson and was now pointing at Rigby. "That's partly what I was thinking, too."

"Well then, we'll see. And this goes for all of you, let's get this place spic and span for them. We don't want to miss out on this opportunity, so... Muscle Man, trash duty. I'll clean the garage. Skips, haul that pile of odd rocks by the fountain outside of the park. Hi Five Ghost, fertilize the soil around the trees. And Thomas, you'll trim all the trees around the house. Then Mordecai and Rigby, clean the whole house inside. Alright, let's hop to it everyone!"

_"UGGH!- we ALWAYS get the boring ones, you're killing me!"_

Mordecai and Rigby walked back into the house. "Keep whining and you'll never get your dream job."

_"I know! But is it worth it if we have to clean EVERYTHING?"_

"Yeah, it really is."


	3. Chapter 3 - Egg-cellent Beginnings

**Chapter 3 - Egg-cellent ****Beginnings**

Mordecai stared into the desolate crowd of no one through purple lenses.

Rigby approached a distracted Mordecai, "Why did you bring those?"

"It's a collector's pair, Rigby; Joplin type sunglasses don't sell cheap."

Rigby snatched them from his eyes and found the inscription on the metal, "These were made in China."

"Ok, maybe they weren't _official_ merchandise, or expensive for that matter, but they're still cool."

"You know what would go good with these? A light brown leather jacket with tassels and a matching pair of custom ariat boots."

"No. But you know what _does_ sound good now? Omelets."

"Aw, man, we just ate. I'm full," said Rigby louder.

"Hush, dude, you don't want Benson to hear, do you? Plus, I barely had anything. Now, what's the fastest way to the Coffee Shop?"

"The hole on the fence is over on the right. See you there!" Rigby rand out on all fours onto the sidewalk and didn't stop until he was clear past the corner.

"Not cool, dude, you know how heavy Techmo made these things," said Mordecai to Rigby as he hauled out animatronic versions of themselves, complete with their pristine, realistic looks.

* * *

Eileen set the two plates of omelets in front of them both. "Wow, guys, nobody ever orders the omelets. There a special occasion?"

"Nah, we felt the need." Mordecai sent the first forkful of egg into his mouth.

Rigby "Actually, I've been meaning to ask, why don't we ever play anymore?"

Mordecai lowered his eyebrows and reluctantly treated the question like it was more than obvious. "Um...one: because we're 23, and two: I'm not a child anymore."

"Not at all man, you took that question completely the wrong way, I meant why don't we start strumming as a band anymore, ya know, as the Mordecai and the Rigbys? Technically, isn't everyone at the park apart of it?

"So am I, and yeah, that's so true; you two would work fine together. I've had managerial experience in my time."

"Woah, woah, woah, take it easy both of you. You remember what happened every time we tried to?"

"Yeah, major disaster, so what? We actually had it together last time but we passed out of heat exhaustion, we could have pulled it off if only Benson wasn't so pissy."

"If only Benson were more of a push-over."

Eileen and Rigby lit up with enthusiasm and asked in unison, **"So you're in?"**

"Well, I guess we can manage all three of us. Plus we have a good manager unlike the last times."

"Yeah, Thomas just isn't cut out for managing."

"Or British accents, " Eileen raised a finger to the air. "I, on the other hand, have got your back."

"Sweet," said Rigby, "then it's settled."

"One condition, we stay local."

"Oh, sure thing. I know a bunch of joints where you'll get easy gigs."

"How would you know that?"

"Uh...I get around?"

Rigby shrugged. "Eh, works for me. Oh, almost forgot..." Rigby pulled out a small box of black and other assorted colors. Eileen and Mordecai rummaged through the box and pulled out random things. Mordecai started,

"What's..."

"...this?" finished Eileen.

Rigby smirked victoriously, "Our new future."


End file.
